


A Perfect Evening Spent

by TheCumberLadyInTheWoods



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Domestic Bliss, F/M, Overly sweet, Poetry, Pregnancy, Sentimental, Shakespeare's Sonnets, ginger!Batch, romantic, to perfect to be real
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1405168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCumberLadyInTheWoods/pseuds/TheCumberLadyInTheWoods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You and Benedict are spending an evening at home and you reflect on the love story that has been your life.</p><p>OR</p><p>I'm bored and feeling sentimental.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Perfect Evening Spent

**Author's Note:**

> Its overly sweet, dripping with lovey dovey BS that would never happen in real life but there you have it.

_“But thy eternal summer shall not fade_ __  
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;  
Nor shall Death brag thou wander’st in his shade,   
When in eternal lines to time thou growest: 

_So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,_ _  
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”_

                        

The warm tones of his rich voice roll over you as you sit with your eyes closed and rock back and forth in the rocking chair that had been a wedding gift from his parents. You hear the pages of the book rustle as he continues onto another Sonnet and can’t help but smile. He knows Shakespeare’s Sonnets are your favorite and takes the time to read them to you whenever he is home. You open your eyes and look over at him. Benedict Cumberbatch, your husband, the father of your child, the man of your dreams is sitting on an ottoman beside you, a worn copy of Shakespeare’s Sonnets open between his hands and his perfect lips moving as he reads the words. You wonder how you got so lucky.

 

Thinking back you remember the day you meet him. You had been just a young American girl fresh out of college (not even a month) and on her first trip alone to another country. You hadn’t traveled much as a child and had been anxious to go alone and explore the wonders of Europe. You had been walking down the street when through the crowd you had seen him. You had almost tripped over your own feet when you realized he was sitting in the same coffee shop you had been heading too, enjoying the blessed sunny English day. He had been reading then too, Keats actually. You hadn’t meant to stare as you’d entered the shop and been offered a seat outside only two tables down from him but you couldn’t seem to stop yourself.

 

 _Oh Lord! He’s going to think I’m a stalker!_ You remember thinking as you had sipped your iced cappuccino and tried to force yourself to look somewhere else. When he had gotten up, you assumed to leave, you had felt a little disappointed that you hadn’t found the courage to walk the short distance and at least introduce yourself and tell him you admired his work. But he didn’t leave, did he? No, he had gathered his things and turned walking the short distance to your table and sat down after asking you if you would like some company. That had been your beginning.

 

For six months after that you had kept in constant contact as you traveled throughout the countries of Europe on your adventures. Sometimes, if his schedule allowed, you would meet up in whatever country you happened to be in for dinner and drinks, sometimes dancing (which you’re were horrible at and honestly still are even though he tells you he loves dancing with you) or to just have a quiet evening in with a movie and conversation. In that time you had shared your dreams with him and your fears. There was a job waiting for you back home in the office of a family friend, you wanted to be a lawyer someday and fight against injustice in the system, you wanted a home and children, and you wanted to settle down into a comfortable life. Ben shared his dreams with you as well and you find yourself thinking for the first time you might actually be compatible with someone, that wild romance might be something more than just a short fling.

 

You returned to England for the last week of your trip and had been surprised to find him waiting for you at the hotel you had intended to stay in. You hadn’t needed it. He has whisked you away to Paris for the week and shown you all the places you had missed the first time around. At the end of your time he had taken you to the airport and kissed you goodbye with promises of keeping in touch, promises he had kept and so had you.

 

That had been two years ago. Two years of emails, phone calls, letters, and plane tickets. He had cleared his schedule in November after you had met to come and spend Thanksgiving with you and your family. You had flown with your parents to England for Christmas. On New Years the two of you had went to New York alone. You had planned to go to Time Square to watch the ball drop and maybe a few of the Irish Pubs (those have always been your favorite) but you hadn’t made it out of your shared hotel room.

 

A shiver passes through you as you remember sitting in front of the large window overlooking the city, the lights off in the room while the lights from the city had cast a glow. The two of you had been relaxing together on the floor, him at your back with his arms around you, and enjoying the silence in anticipation of the noise of the Square and the Pubs. He had turned you and kissed you. He had pulled you close, holding onto you as if you were the most fragile object he had ever had in his hands. He had whispered:  _“I love you so much. You are my world and I can’t imagine how I survived in my life before now. I want to be with you always and when I can’t I feel as if a part of me is dying until I can have you back in my arms.”_ You gasped, no one has ever told you they loved you before and you most certainly hadn’t even felt the need to say it, but you did now and you whispered back: _“I love you too.”_

 

Then he had laid you down on the soft carpet and made love to you for the very first time and you had cried afterward from the feelings of complete contentment and joy and love. The next day he had presented you with the most beautiful platinum set diamond and sapphire engagement ring you had ever seen and you had been married that June on the beach in Florida with all of your closest friends and family.

 

You had been so happy wrapped in the gauzy white gown and the sun shining down on your bare shoulders, the breeze moving your dress and long dark hair to tickle your face. The bold red of the roses you had chosen contrasted perfectly with the light blue of the carnations. Your father had looked so handsome and silly in his Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts. Then you had seen Ben and everything else just faded away. His outfit mirrored your dad’s but it doesn’t look nearly as silly on him. He smiles at you and it is as if he is looking at the most beautiful sight in the entire world.

 

Your heart swells with joy at the memories as you reach out and rub your hand through his ginger locks. His hair is soft under your fingers and you wrap one perfect curl lazily around your index finger. He tilts his head up, his beautiful eyes finding yours, and smiles before continuing on, another page with another Sonnet. The baby inside of you jumps and rolls every so often, as if hearing his favorite parts of the poetry and responding to them.

 

 _Dawson Michael Phillip Cumberbatch_ , you think to yourself as you place your other hand over the little miracle growing inside of you. You’ll never forget the day you found out you were pregnant, so unexpected but so wonderful. There had been the nervous jitters as you waited for the doctor in the exam room, your mother sitting just off to the side and smiling encouragingly as you tried to contain the urge to pace or cry. The sickness you had felt this morning (for the last several mornings if truth be told) was gone now but replaced by the tickle of something entirely different. Your stomach had flipped and flopped and you felt as if you might burst into flames at any given moment.

 

Then when the doctor had come in there had been the moment of complete shock when you hear the words: _“Congratulations, Mrs. Cumberbatch, you’re pregnant.”_

 

You’ll never forget the way your heart seemed to swell with joy. The quick and high-pitched sound your mother had made as she jumped up to hug you. Oh, how you had longed for this day. You and Ben had been talking about having a child only the night before, laughing and poking fun at each other as if it were some distant thing.

 

You had raced out of the doctor’s office and hailed a cab, the ultrasound pictures clinched in your hand and your mother yelling at you to slow down. You hadn’t even waited on her and had given the cabby the address of Ben’s current filming location. It’s a good thing he is filming _Sherlock_ in London at the moment or else you would have had to wait on a plane because this is not news you give over the phone.

 

Security had let you through when the cabby drops you off at the barricade because they recognized you and probably because there had been a half crazed look in your eye as you had scanned the masses of people who are milling about the set looking for your husband. You felt a prickle of annoyance that he isn’t anywhere you could see and then you spotted Martian. If Martian was close by so was Ben. You raced forward and grabbed your husband’s best friend by the arm.

 

 _“What in the bloody fucking---?”_ He started to complain until he notices it’s you. _“What is it? What’s wrong?”_ He had instantly gone on alert and started to glances around, looking for Ben.

 

 _“Ben…I have to see Ben.”_ You hadn’t been able to say anything else. Martian dragged you through the people, cursing and barking orders at the individuals around him then you’d seen him, he was standing with Moffat. He must have heard the commotion because he glanced up and looked at you and you broke free from Martian’s hold. Running again you had barely stopped before leaping into his arms and kissing him and mumbling and crying. He was shocked and confused and it just made you laugh harder.

 

 _“What is wrong with you?”_ He asked as people stopped to look at you and him, there had been a camera flash and people (fans probably, you can’t quite remember) screaming your name and Ben’s. When you finally pull back from him and thrust the ultrasounds into his hand, proclaiming as loud as possible:  _“I’m pregnant!”_

 

Total chaos had ensued. Ben had cried, Martian had cried, Moffat had muttered something about using the baby in a film. It had all been perfect.

 

“Are you feeling okay my love?” He asks you as he stops reading and turns to you. The look of concern in his eyes and the way he gives a nervous glance toward you stomach makes you laugh soft and low.

 

“I’m fine my heart. Just lost in my memories.” You tell him as you lean forward and press your lips against his. As you part he sighs and the look in his eyes nearly makes you cry (honestly though just about anything makes you cry now a days). It’s the look of a man who is completely happy and totally content in his life, a man without a single care.

 

“Anything good?” He inquires as he closes the book and sits it down on the floor, turning so he can bend forward and lay his head against you stomach. The baby kicks at the side of his cheek and you do tear up this time.

 

“All of them are good when they have you.”

 

FIN


End file.
